


Big brother knows

by Sammygirl2003



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awesome big brother Dean, Brotherly Love, Cutting, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Short One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Teen Angst, Teen Dean Winchester, Teen Sam Winchester, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammygirl2003/pseuds/Sammygirl2003
Summary: Sam Winchester is tired of his life. Tired of being the baby of the family. He's kept his emotions on bay for 15 years, and now he finally breaks down.





	Big brother knows

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my second supernatural fanfiction. I am still new with the concept of writing. I had he sudden urge to write this at midnight, so forgive my typos and mistakes. I literally wrote this at 2 am. Also, Sam and Dean are 15 and 19 in this one-shot.

Bullies were unfair. Hunting creatures that generally ceased to exist was unfair. Heck the _life_ Sam Winchester lived was unfair. 

He constantly faught with his dad because ' _He didn't follow orders like Dean did'_ or was ' _a selfish little brat unlike Dean'_ who was a perfect soldier in John Winchester's dictionary. Never did John appreciate Sam. Dean always followed orders blindly. It was always Dean _this_ , Dean _that_.

Not that he hated Dean or anything. Dean was his big brother, his life-line that kept him going on. That is, until now. Dean did everything for Sam. He worked for extra hours at the garage. Heck Sam had even caught Dean skipping meals so that Sam could get a decent meal when John was busy hunting the creature that took innocent lives. Dean didn't deserve such a stupid, shy, bratty little brother like Sam.

Dean always took care of every physical wound of Sam's. But the internal agonising pain was too much for him to handle. Dean couldn't heal that.

And hence, here he was, sitting on the toilet seat, door closed, just in case Dean found him, _if_ Dean found him, which wouldn't happen since Dean was at work and wouldn't be back for another two hours. 

Sam took out the swiss army knife his brother had given him for his 10th birthday. His first ever weapon since he got to know about the monsters that go bump at night. He took a look at the sharp edge of the knife and slowly slid it over his left wrist.

The first was a slow drag, but it was overwhelming. He'd seen plenty of bloodshed before. A life of a hunter did that. But this blood, it gave him a piece of mind. It was his own blood after all.

The blood was almost beautiful in a creepy way. Satisfactory. The pain. It made him believe. How cruel the world was. He thought how Dean, or worse, his dad would think of him when they find out what he had been doing.

As he cut even deeper, words like  _looser, pathetic, liability_  or worse _weak_ started swarming around his head. The pain was overwhelming, but he deserved it. FOR being all the words. For not being like Dean. 

Sometimes he thought if his mom had died because of him. That the thing that killed mom had come for him and not for her. He felt....impure. Like he had been internally infected my something. And he  _knew_  that his dad knew something that he doesn't. 

He realised that there was too much blood around him. He had to clean up the mess before Dean could know. Dean would never know what Sam was going to do. Because if he did, he'd think Sam was weak. But Dean _always_ knew. He had a sixth sense for when Sam was in danger. So he had to be careful.

He went to grab a towel when dizziness hit him with full force. He heard a gentle click from and a muffled 'Sammy' from outside.

 _Shit._  He thought and blacked out even before he slumped into a crumpled heap on the ground.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Dean was having an awesome day at the garage. The owner was a good old man. He paid Dean with a decent amount. Sometimes even slipped him some extra bills for good work. 

He had brought the paperback copy of 'The Great Gatsby' that Sammy had been asking for a few days now, and a pie for himself. He had plenty of money that would last at least another week. His dad was due 4 days, but had called this morning saying that he wouldn't be home for another week. Maybe more.

Keeping aside the thoughts, he entered the house and gave a cheerful 'Sammy!'.

That's when he noticed that Sam was no where to be seen.

He panicked for a moment since he couldn't find Sam anywhere, but relaxed only slightly when he saw a slim beam of golden coming from the bathroom. 

 _Calm your shit Winchester. He's probably just_ _in the bathroom._

5 minutes passed. Then 10. Dean's patience was wearing off and his big brother sense was tingling. Something was wrong. Sam never took so long in the bathroom. Neither of them did, since John had trained them military style. 5 minutes in and out.

That's when he heard a dull thud from inside. He dropped the book and pie on the table and rushed. He pounded loudly on the door and asked, "Sammy you in there?" When he got no response, he quickly picked the lock and was horrified by the image in front of him.

His baby brother, his Sammy was lying there, unconscious on the crappy motel floor, blood oozing from his wrists, the swiss army knife in his hand.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Dean rushed to get the first aid kit and immediately started applying pressure on the slits from where blood was rushing. He got some of Sammy's blood on his hand. It was his baby brother's blood and it was too damn thin and difficult to clot.

One thing he didn't understand was why would his baby brother do such a horrible thing? Did Dean do something? Had he said something that had hurt Sammy so much, he wanted to off himself so soon? No. That was not possible. If he was hurting so bad, why hadn't he come to Dean? Was Dean such a horrible big brother that Sammy couldn't come to talk to him? He shook his head to clear of the morbid thoughts. 

Under him, Sam was starting to stir. 

"Hey Sammy, time to wake up kiddo." Dean soothed and was soon rewarded with two hazel eyes peeking out of small slits.

"D'n. Is tht ya?" Sammy slurred.

"In the flesh. Come on lets get you to bed if you are done wrestling with floor." Dean attempted to make a lame joke.

Dean picked Sam up and he just let him carry his lanky frame, which concerned Dean even more since Sam had forbidden him from carrying him like a baby since 'Sammy' had become 'Sam'.

Once Sam was safely tucked in and his wrists bandaged, Dean gently nudged his brother and looked at him with concern. Sam wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Why did you do this Sammy? Is it because of me?" Dean asked in a monotone and winced when he saw Sam flinch by his tone.

"I am sorry Dean. I didn't mean to upset you. It's not your fault. And I know you hate me even more. I am slrry for being so weak Dean! But I can't handle this anymore. " Sam was babbling and Dean noticed the lack of usual protest against the kidish nickname. 

"Hey, hey whoa wait a minute. You saying I think you are weak?" Sam just nodded mutely, silent tears sliding down his soft baby skin.

"Sammy next time you feel like this you come to me and talk! And dont you dare think that youre weak Sammy! Understand? You dont trust me do you? You think I'll just let you go? Cause you're wrong."

"No no no Dean! I trust you with my life. It's just that, dad's always angry at me. I always get bullied at school. You are either at work or on a hunt. You don't take me to hunts either because I am a liability." 

"No Sam! You're wrong. Dad and you are so similar, you don't realise that and then you butt heads. But he's our  _father_  and he cares about us. _Why_ would he hate you? I am sorry I couldn't spend time with you. But promise me kiddo, you will never do this again." 

God how had he not seen this before?

He gently gathered Sam into his arms and relished his brother's warmth. He let him cry openly, not caring if this was turning into a big chick-flick moment. Because this was his brother and he always came first.

_Look out for Sammy. Take care of Sammy._

These words were ingrained in his mind the day Sam had been handed into Dean's hands after the fire that took thair mother, and metaphorically, their father and Dean's childhood. But Dean never complained because looking after Sam was his job, and he had failed him. Failed to notice his brother's pain. He slowly rocked Sammy until he felt his breaths even out. He was _never_ going to let this happen  _ever again._

And it never did. Because from then, Sam always shared his grief with Dean. Even after Jess died. Because Dean knew. He always does.

**The End**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it! Please review you thoughts so I can write better next time. Until then, Ciao Adios!


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